A Very Brown Suit
by Braveheart57
Summary: The Doctor learns not to underestimate the power of a *less frequent* bodily function..


It started with a rumbling stomach. He was just about to walk out the door with Rose, when he felt it. Rose heard it too. He dismissed it as simple hunger, or a bit of pent up gas. That was his first mistake.

They were going to check out the 1889 Paris World's Fair. It was the one featured in Around the World in 80 days. According to said novel, this World's Fair was both boring, and eventful.

They were looking at models of soon-to-be invented submarines when a different sensation struck him. A slight pressure in his anus, quickly responded to by clenching. The Doctor frowned. It had clearly, as his colon was stating, been 5 days since his last bowel movement. Once again, he dismissed it.

' _I can wait. It's not the dark ages, they obviously have toilets,_ ' the Doctor decided.

However, while the physical aspect of needing to poop can be ignored, there's discomfort none the less. Slight nervousness, tension in the muscles that are being unnecessarily constricted.

This showed clearly on the Doctor, in his general matter of moving about the exhibition, the infrequency at which he spoke, as his need continued bothering him.

"You alright?" Rose asked, noticing how docile the Doctor had become.

"Yeah," the Doctor replied tensely. He didn't notice how obvious the lie sounded, as he was focused on not frowning as a reaction to the pain, which had appeared around his rectal region.

"No, you're not..what's wrong?" Rose asked kindly, studying him.

"Nothing," he replied firmly, this time managing to get her to drop the topic. She did remain observant, however.

She noticed that he was walking very stiffly, although with thighs still apart, which was unlike when the Doctor was hiding a need for the loo. Obviously, she had forgotten that there are _two_ bodily functions related to needing the loo.

Then she noticed a hand grasping the Doctor's upper thigh. With bodily functions currently off the table, Rose settled for the theory of injury.

"Does your leg hurt?" she asked him, concerned.

"No, just a bit stiff from walking," The Doctor assured her, using this excuse to clench his buttcheeks once. Rose then suggested they find a show to sit down and look at. The Doctor agreed as it allowed him to rest his hardworking sphincter muscles.

They found a presentation by the, at this time, _recently_ famous, inventors of the cinematograph, the first film camera. The benches were of sufficiently hard material, but not very wide, so the Doctor eventually moved his legs underneath it, to increase the pressure. Rose raised an eyebrow at his odd posture.

Then, the Doctor did something Rose recognized. A kid from the Estate, had done the same thing during P.E class, sitting on a similar bench. The Doctor grabbed edges of the bench with both hands, using them to press the bench more tightly onto the necessary muscles.

It dawned on her. _He **did **need the loo! Not for nr 1, but a nr 2!_

"You can probably sneak out to the loo without being noticed, " Rose whispered to the Doctor.

He blushed in the slight darkness of the room.

"What gave it away?" he asked her.

"Classmate of mine did the same manoeuvre with the bench, in P.E," Rose explained.

The Doctor sighed, at the realization that he had suddenly stopped being subtle.

"I can't. French people are huge on etiquette, they'll definitely notice," the Doctor whispered, rejecting Rose's suggestion.

Rose sighed. "Alright, well then, just try to hang in there alright," she comforted him by stroking his back.

The Doctor powered through some more minutes of the presentation, his legs back in a natural position in front of the bench. His hands were (_hopefully_) discreetly hidden underneath his bottom, pushing against the pressure in the way the bench couldn't anymore. When the first 20 min movie was over, the whole audience rose from their seats and clapped. Even though the Doctor had just felt his need to poo reaching almost emergency levels of urgency, this was forgotten in the moment. The Doctor instinctively stood up, as if nothing was wrong, nor had been wrong. At the same time, his secure hold on his anal sphincter subsided. The second the Doctor had stood up to clap, the poo was released. As protocol dictated, his anal sphincter relaxed, gently pushing out the poo, into his underpants. The Doctor's eyes widened as the immediate response.

Rose had seen, and understood what happened as well. The way his legs and bottom moved when it was l_et out_ was telltale.

The Doctor maintained a frozen shocked expression, his mouth slightly open as well. His eyes flicked from side to side. He had absolutely no idea what to do. A wide blush emerged on his face as he looked at Rose. He mouthed to her- 'what do I do?'

Rose motioned for him to sit back down, which he did, carefully, doing his best to find a comfortable position to sit in his poop-containing trousers.

When it was over, both the Doctor and Rose agreed to wait until the room cleared out, so fewer people would make notice of the foul-smelling Time Lord passing them by. Rose then gently, but hurriedly, guided the soiled Doctor towards the toilets. Once inside they formulated a battle plan.

"Okay firstly, we need to find you some new trousers. NOT from the TARDIS, it's too far away," Rose stated. The Doctor gulped before presenting his idea. "Gustave Eiffel," he blurted out.

"He's got trousers in a locker next to his show-piece. A few years back he did a bunch of explosive, and thus fabric-destroying, experiments. Not anymore, but he still brings them out of force of habit. I don't see a better option. He knows me, just tell him," The Doctor elaborated, and requested.

Rose nodded. "Hey, it's gonna be alright. It was just an accident," she told him reassuringly before leaving to fetch a change of clothes, from the inventor of the Eiffel Tower.

Eiffel was showing off an early sketch of his tower with pride, when a young lady wearing last year's dress approached him.

"Gustave Eiffel? I'm Rose Tyler, friend of the Doctor," Rose introduced herself.

"Ah, nice to meet you, Mademoiselle. Where is he?" Gustave asked, puzzled at the fact he didn't seem to be anywhere around.

"That's the thing. He's hiding in the men's room. He had a bit of an 'accident', and needs a change of trousers, which he says you've got," Rose explained, hoping the Doctor was right.

"Oh mon Dieu, poor Docteur. Why of course, right here in this locker," Eiffel replied, grabbing a pair of brown trousers which thankfully, appeared to be the Doctor's size.

_Good thing the bloke's as tall as the tower,_ Rose mused to herself amusingly. She thanked Eiffel profusely and ran off with the pair.

In the meantime, the Doctor had freed himself from his loaded bottom garments, and hidden in a stall getting cleaned up with toilet paper as best he could. Rose entered the bathroom, tied a knot around the bag of laundry the Doctor had placed on the floor, and slipped the trousers under the crack.

"Thank you, Rose," the Doctor replied in relief.

The Doctor emerged, sans underwear from the stall, feeling quite comfortable in the old-fashioned slacks.

"Come on, let's just get back to the TARDIS," Rose beckoned for him to follow her out.

"Yes please, Allons-y!" The Doctor agreed, quickly walking ahead, eager to leave behind this incident..about his _behind_ ..

The End.


End file.
